Do You Believe?
by Peahopeless
Summary: It's Evey's birthday and she spends it watching a film with V in his new Shadow Gallery. Before she returns to her flat for the night, V has a very special, very old gift he wants to bestow.


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**Disclaimer: **As always, they're not mine and never will be. These characters and places belong to Alan Moore, DC Comics, Wachowski brothers, and Warner Bros. 

**Author's Note:** This is one story of many (over 100) that are written in a timeline format. Not all of these stories have been posted on this site yet (some of them -- rated for adults only -- will never be posted to this site), **but all of my stories -- including those not posted here yet -- have been posted on my aol website**. Just click on my username for more information on how to get to my homepage, or do a search on PEAhopeless V for Vendetta Fan Fiction on the internet.

**Special notes: **Occurs about midway between my other stories, "Her Safety" and "The One She Chose".

The inspiration will be included as a footnote.

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**Do You Believe?**

"Did you enjoy it, Evey?" V inquired, rubbing the shoulder of the girl currently reclined against his side. In all honesty, he wasn't entirely sure she'd even been awake for most of the last half of the movie. Not that he would complain though. ... Not that he would complain at all. ... ... ... Not when she chose to bless him with such closeness.

"Mmhmm," she replied, surprisingly coherent, nodding where her head lay on his vest. "But now I'm worried I'll find you hiding behind some potted plant, talking to Shakespeare over there."

He glanced behind them, toward the small bust of Shakespeare sitting atop a writing desk. As for the potted plant ... that was nowhere to be found. But considering they'd just watched 'Cyrano de Bergerac', he could imagine her point. He did have an admitted propensity for impromptu re-enactments.

"I would prefer to think I speak quite well enough for myself," he replied, feigning a little offense. ... But only a little.

His arm tightened, knowing he should rise and remove the disk from the player. ... ... ... The hour was late, and he should soon escort her safely to her flat's building.

'Should', however, does not equal 'could'.

Add into the mix that today had been her birthday, and he found it especially difficult to watch their evening come to a close.

"Thank you," she murmured, shifting her head so she could see him more properly. "I liked this."

Her hand rose, fingers curving to lie gently on his chest. A sensation he could feel right through to his core. From this perspective, suddenly the damage from that long ago fire wasn't quite as horrid. -- -- It could have been worse ... he could have lost his nerves' ability to feel such a feather light, exquisite touch. ... ... Torture indeed.

"I have something for you," he commented softly. "Before you return home."

Evey smiled. "As long as it's not another train. I really don't want to play the demolition game tonight."

V chuckled. "Not nearly as destructive, I should say. Although I appreciate your imagination."

And then, alas, the time had come ... he forced himself to rise from the couch, supporting and coaxing Evey until she too was vertical.

"You're tired, aren't you," he teased when he had to steady her for a second time. "Come, this won't take long."

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Her point regarding the train had actually been a rather apt one, whether she knew it or not. 'Giving' her something had become a tricky endeavor.

Something too personal, or too obvious in any way, and it might arouse suspicion among her friends in the world above. Something too impersonal, and she might choose to keep it down here, where it would only taunt him with its presence. Or she might even choose to relinquish it to the cause of Cultural Preservation, if it were of an appropriate species. Yes, the endeavor had become quite a minefield.

... ... V was good at minefields though.

What he had selected tonight would be something to encompass all of those qualities, and in a way that if she chose to keep it below, the memory it generated would hopefully delight rather than taunt.

Taking her hand, he led her into one of his reclamation rooms, where he worked on restoring England's treasures. Many of the items eventually ended up in Evey's Preservation archives, memorializing things formerly extinct during the Norsefire years. This particular piece, however, he hoped would remain a bit more personal.

"That is for you, my dear," he remarked affectionately, pointing toward a table. Something most rectangular and edged sat atop it, covered with a swatch of blue velvet. "Go on," he coaxed. "It's yours to do with as you wish."

Stepping forward, she gingerly pulled off the velvet, peering beneath ... only to find ... ...

Well ... she wasn't sure what it was at first. Its overall shape was much like an angular-ized, quite antique cash register ... complete with a series of buttons on top. These buttons were electronic, however.

Her beau moved up behind her, one arm slipping around her waist to steady himself (or at least that was how he would justify it), as he leaned beside her, reaching to turn the machine on.

It sprang to life ... lights flashing. And what could only be described as a reel of ticker-tape paper, swiftly jumpstarted and jerked itself into position.

"And it does what?" Evey asked playfully, with one eyebrow raised. She'd never seen such an odd looking device before.

"I found it in a derelict pub, beyond London's old quarantine zone. Pop culture at its finest, one might say." ... He paused for a moment, suddenly quite nervous and anxious to point out her options. ... "You need not keep it, if it doesn't strike your fancy. You'll be praised indeed though, I suspect, when you deliver it into the Preservation collection."

"Yeah, but would they know what it is either?" she laughed.

"It's a fortune telling device," V explained, proudly running one hand along the machine's front edge. It had restored to excellent condition.

"Oh sure," she teased. "I can see people coming to the museum to have their fortunes told."

She was being facetious of course, but V took the opportunity to play right along. "Well then you must test it for them." ... His hand pointing toward a lever with 'Tell Me No Lies' sprawled across it in whimsical script, he continued to goad her -- -- "Don't you believe, Evey? Don't you believe? ... ... Please, do try it."

With another amused chuckle, she relented and grasped the handle. "Alright."

Down came the immaculately clean lever, and chink, click, chink went the printing device ... the fortune spitting out at her on a stream of paper.

That fortune appeared far too verbose, however ... and the chinking and clicking continued for far too long ... for it to be correct. That was V's first hint that something was amiss. Ripping the ticker-tape off, Evey read it aloud. -- --

"He loves you ... with all that he shall ... but that is rarely enough."

Her voice tilted into a question at the end as she realized how bad that actually sounded. -- -- Especially given where she was standing, and who she was standing with. "Well that's not the most encouraging thing I've ever heard," she stated, a bit taken aback.

V's pensive "Hmmmmmm" hummed across the back of her head. "Yes indeed. That certainly wasn't supposed to happen."

Reaching around her yet again, he set and reset a few buttons on the side of the obstinate little machine ... then paused ... ... then gave it a good sharp thwack on its metal frame.

"Beating it up isn't going to help," she chided.

"It came from a pub, my dear. Isn't that the way most drunkards would attempt to remedy the situation? ... ... There ... try again."

Evey took a stubborn breath, cast him a humorously wary look, then pulled the lever a second time.

Chink, click, chink ... ... and she read the result. -- --

"The best of intentions are rarely enough ..."

Two gloved hands landed at her waist, no longer needing to discipline the machine. It was working, and his smile matched that of his mask as he stepped a little closer behind her. "Try again."

This time, her glance at her love was a bit more suspicious, but she did as he suggested. More clinking. More clicking. And she read -- --

"Yet he shall strive with all that he is ..."

His hands slid happily around her midriff. A liberty taken with the confidence of success. "Again," he purred.

Another pull of the lever, to produce -- --

"Because ..."

This time, she glanced at him with the most affectionate shyness, unsurprised to find that 'face' of his mirroring the sentiment back so perfectly. And this time, she needed no prompting.

One last pull. A chink and a click. -- --

"He loves you ..."

Silence for a moment, after her whisper of the words ended. He leaned closer along the side of her head, hoping that everything was indeed alright ... ... assured of it, when her fingers carefully gathered together the precious little strips of paper, squeezing them between her palms. A further moment, while she fought back the tears.

"This isn't going to the museum," she hushed quite resolutely, staring at the little machine she now absolutely adored. "It stays down here. But these," ... ... she smoothed the ends of the paper strips, peaking out from between her hands ... ... "These are mine."

V's head propped to hers, breathing a sigh of both joy and relief. "Yes," he agreed simply. "They are."

... ... "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes still trying to escape that same lever she had been so reluctant to pull.

"Do you believe now, Evey?" he asked, breathing the words into her hair.

A few more blinks, as she tried unsuccessfully to slow the welling tears. "Yeah," she whispered, then carefully jarred his reluctant arms loose ... just enough to turn for a proper embrace ... ... "Yeah. I think I really do."

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**Author's Note:** This is one story of many (over 100) that are written in a timeline format. Not all of these stories have been posted on this site yet (some of them -- rated for adults only -- will never be posted to this site), **but all of my stories -- including those not posted here yet -- have been posted on my aol website**. Just click on my username for more information on how to get to my homepage, or do a search on PEAhopeless V for Vendetta Fan Fiction on the internet.

**Footnote:** If you go back and look at the correct fortunes that it eventually spit out, you can kind of piece together how the machine got things mixed up and produced that initial "bad" fortune. About ten years ago, one of my friends got a fortune cookie that said "He loves you as much as he can, but that may not be enough." Considering that she actually was in a bad relationship at the time, it kind of freaked all of us out. Neither my husband nor I have opened a fortune cookie now for over a decade. I figured V and Evey were strong enough together to exorcise that demon from my head. Well, after seeing the movie again, we went out for Chinese. And ya know what? I'm opened up a fortune cookie. **;-D**


End file.
